


Heat of the Night

by arabmorgan



Series: The Original High [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Aphrodisiacs, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Post-Thor: The Dark World
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-17 06:16:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8133406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arabmorgan/pseuds/arabmorgan
Summary: Tony, Loki and various feelings are thrown together. The result is really less complicated than one would expect. Or not.





	1. The Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> How do people tag things? Because I have no clue.
> 
> Anyway, the Loki here is somewhat friendlier than usual, which I tried to justify to myself by writing a thing that didn't work out, but the general gist is that upon finding himself presumed dead at the end of The Dark World, Loki decided to give himself a chance to start over since he figured Frigga would have wanted that for him. So he trundled off to Midgard instead of returning to Asgard, and after a while got right back to his old mischief-making ways. Or whatever, because I'm still a bit dubious about the characterisation.
> 
> There's a bit of violence in this chapter - just a really tiny bit, and it's only a few lines, but it might be gross to imagine it, so I'm just warning in case.

Honestly, the whole fiasco really began the day Tony realised Loki wasn’t simply fooling around without malicious intent (albeit on a very, very large scale), but was actually actively looking out for “the piddling mortals of this realm,” as he had once sneered with an excessive amount of disdain.

True, no civilians were ever injured beyond a few scrapes and bruises during their scraps with the caustic god, much less killed, but somehow that fact had been largely overlooked due to the not inconsiderable architectural damage that so often accompanied Loki’s appearances. Thor’s little brother might not rank high on their list of active supervillains at the moment (more like super _nuisance_ ), but they were pretty much morally obliged to stop his heinous activities anyway.

Interestingly, despite their continued attempts to foil his “pranks” (Thor’s words, not Tony’s), Loki clearly included the Avengers under his somewhat questionable umbrella of protection.

Tony should’ve gotten a clue when a mutated tiger _thing_ had batted him right out of the air like a feather, and the next moment an airborne van had sailed over his head, coming to an abrupt and flaming stop at the foot of a bent streetlight.

But he had been just a _little_ busy at the moment – too busy to notice that he would have been directly in the path of the offending van had the overgrown kitty not made its move.

And then Loki had slipped up.

Perhaps he’d thought no one would notice, or maybe he simply hadn’t had the time to divert one of his nifty creations to where Clint was perched atop a high-rise building. Whatever the case, one moment Clint was loosing arrow after arrow at impossibly faraway targets, and the next he was falling something like sixteen storeys to the ground.

Tony dived immediately, snagging the archer round the waist before he could splatter all over the pavement. “So, you’re Maid Marian today?” he teased, pulling into a steep glide.

Clint had just opened his mouth to retort when something exploded against the top of the building they had just left behind. Even through the suit, Tony felt the momentary sear of heat, and he spared a glance back at the inferno that would probably have incinerated a person in three seconds flat.

“Something pushed me off,” Clint said after a split second of silence, and there was no sarcasm in his voice. “Like, a force or something.”

“A _force_.” Tony’s tone was dry, but he was thinking hard, the puzzle pieces clicking together in his head. “Like magic?”

Which was when Tony began to realise that there might be a god looking out for them after all, and it certainly wasn’t Steve’s.

Not that he _did_ anything to test that hypothesis. He might be reckless, but he wasn’t crazy enough to put himself in danger on the hunch that their nemesis might just save his life for reasons unknown.

Nor did he stop working on a brand new type of weapon specially designed to penetrate that frustrating magic force field Loki always had around him. It wasn’t a matter of malice; it was a matter of _pride_. Tony could only take the sight of repulsor beams, shields and arrows (Tony Stark-manufactured, mind you) all bouncing carelessly away from Loki with a shower of gold sparks for so long.

The first time he tested the Reindeer Blast (to be fair, he hadn’t seen the infamous helmet in a while, but why give up a perfectly good nickname?), it had rebounded back at him, shearing off a number of innocent tree branches when he dodged with a muffled curse.

Loki had laughed, and it almost sounded like there had been some genuine amusement mixed in with the evil cackle.

Tony supposed he shouldn’t be surprised that an enemy almost knocking himself out with his own weapon was the kind of thing that a god of mischief found entertaining. Black humour and all that.

The second time, he’d created a spectacular but ultimately ineffective explosion when blast met force field, something that Natasha had thoroughly reamed him out for.

Loki had only grinned his unnervingly shark-like grin and said, “Try harder, Stark.”

The third time, the force field had simply absorbed the impact with quiet efficiency, and for the first time, Tony saw a whole section of it glow gold where the blast had hit.

The god hadn’t smiled at that – not with any levity, anyway – only smacking Tony _hard_ with an animated statue of a cherub, and god knew where _that_ had come from.

Taking that as a cue that he was _close_ , Tony went for subtle instead of flashy the fourth time round. Loki liked flashy, and he definitely didn’t want to give the Asgardian (“ _Aesir_ ,” Thor had corrected him numerous times, with a woebegone expression when Tony failed to remember that pertinent fact) what he wanted.

“Try _this_ on for size, Rock of Ages,” he said triumphantly, secretly thankful for the way the suit modulated his voice into something a little less gloating. It wouldn’t do to be heard crowing if the blast didn’t make it through _again_.

He had a good feeling this time though.

He raised a metal-clad arm as Loki looked up, gears whirring internally as his usual repulsor beams were replaced with the Reindeer Blast. The god’s lips curved into a smirk at the very moment a thin, almost laser-like blaze of bright blue flashed from his gauntlet, piercing right through the force field like it was nothing.

Tony only had a split second to feel triumph before the blast hit Loki square in the face and a gout of blood sprayed out into the air.

“Oh. Wow. _Shit_.”

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion right then – the graceful arc of Loki’s body as he toppled over backwards, the mist of red droplets speckling the grass crimson, the shortening distance between them as Tony dived to the ground.

Thank _god_ Thor was in Asgard at the moment.

“Iron Man, what just happened?” Steve’s voice was loud in his ear.

“Did you get him?” Clint sounded more stunned than gleeful. “He’s down, I think he’s actually down!”

As always, Natasha was the most practical of the lot. “We’ll finish up here, then we’ll come help you secure him.”

But Loki was already sitting up by the time Tony landed, as far from dead as could be, which he would have been relieved about had he not been too busy trying to keep his lunch down at the sight of the god’s face.

Loki’s left eye had clearly sustained the majority of the damage from the blast – it was a ruin, the socket dripping blood, trickling down his bone-white face and dribbling steadily onto his armour. There was some clear goop near his hairline, which Tony thought might be the remnants of his eyeball, but he _really_ didn’t want to think too much about it.

“ _Stark_ ,” Loki snarled, his teeth bared and stained red. “You…” For once, he seemed lost for words, and he settled for spitting a mouthful of blood onto the grass in Tony’s general direction instead. It didn’t quite reach half the distance, but Tony couldn’t blame him – the god probably didn’t have much in the way of depth perception at the moment.

“I really didn’t mean to do this,” Tony said apologetically, lamely, knowing that there was nothing _right_ to say in this situation. “Will the eye grow back?” His faceplate flipped up as he eyed the gory wound with a grimace.

“ _You_ ,” Loki repeated, looking apoplectic with fury, so much so that his face was starting to suffuse with colour. “You did this.”

Tony wondered if he should take a step back, if he was in danger of sudden death by Norse god, even if said Norse god was still seated on his butt in the grass he had just watered quite liberally with his own blood.

“Ungrateful _cretins_ ,” Loki spat, planting one hand on the ground and bracing himself as he staggered to his feet, swaying dangerously. “I would advise you to watch your back, Stark.” He said Tony’s name like a curse, and then disappeared in a puff of green smoke.

But in that fraction of a second before he’d teleported away, just a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment, the god’s face had seemed to twist in hurt betrayal. Like he’d expected the Avengers to face him with anything other than force; like he’d thought there had been an _understanding_ between them.

It made no sense, but Tony felt something in his gut twist with guilt anyway.

* * *

Loki didn’t resurface for half a year.

Six months in which Tony set the Reindeer Blast aside, Thor returned to Earth, Bruce Hulked out after tripping and falling down the stairs, and the Avengers continued to fight under the noble leadership of one Captain America.

Loki tended to make fewer appearances when Thor was around, but somehow Tony had the nagging feeling that his absence this time wasn’t entirely down to Thor’s presence.

In a way, Tony almost missed the crazy god. He missed fighting a foe who wasn’t actually aiming to kill them all slowly and painfully, or whose modus operandi wasn’t to murder a dozen civilians and then lay their cold bodies out in the open for a laugh.

Sure, Loki was a huge pain in the ass, but at least all he did was mostly to enlarge ducks and then laugh as they quacked deafeningly and tried to eat trees.

And Tony had pulverised his eye.

So it really was no surprise – to Tony, at least – that when Loki returned, he did so with a vengeance.

Murderous, pony-sized tarantulas were involved.

No civilians were killed, but for the first time, the team returned more battered than ever after a Loki encounter.

“Is it just me, or was Loki _really_ pissed today?” Clint muttered, one eye swelled completely shut and bleeding from a nasty gash along his thigh.

Steve was pale and shivering, two uncomfortably large wounds in his torso where the spider fangs had sunk in. Tarantulas weren’t typically particularly venomous, but he’d found out the hard way that the effects were magnified when it came to _giant_ tarantulas.

Pointedly taking Clint’s question as rhetorical, Tony heaved himself to his feet with a groan. “You guys put Capsicle to bed, okay? I need some sleep myself.”

Bruce nodded, responsible as ever. “Yeah, go get some rest, Tony. You need it.”

Dragging himself up to his floor and into his bedroom, Tony settled himself gingerly onto his bed, gritting his teeth at the pain. He felt ready to sleep for a week, but there was no way he was dozing off like this, not when he was unable to even sit down comfortably.

He hadn’t gotten bitten, but one of the spiders _had_ gotten a good enough grip on the suit to put hairline fractures in his femur. And that was in addition to the dislocated arm, sprained neck and bruising pretty much _everywhere_. It was obvious who Loki had been gunning for.

“I would recommend that you take your medication before sleeping, Sir,” JARVIS pointed out, and Tony nodded in weary agreement. Genius creator, genius AI, obviously.

He washed down the prescribed pills with some water, then lay down and waited for the pain meds to take effect. They were _strong_ meds, at least, because SHIELD hadn’t wanted to discharge him at all in the first place, but he’d whinged until the doctor had agreed with despair in his voice.

The next thing he knew, he was opening his eyes to the darkness of night – and an equally dark figure standing by his bed.

A dark figure about the size and shape of one pissed off Norse god he’d had the misfortune of encountering earlier in the day.

He tried to sit up, but the meds were still working at full force, and all he felt was numb and woozy. The effort also left him slightly dizzy, and he gave up with a soft sound of discomfort.

“JARV?” he croaked, wondering vaguely why the alarm hadn’t been sounded.

“Your servant is asleep,” came Loki’s cool voice out of the darkness, and a frisson of muted fear ran down Tony’s spine.

“Loki? Hey,” he tried to say, except he slurred his way embarrassingly through those two words alone, and it came out more like, “Lo…ki? ‘eyyy.”

There was a sound like fingers snapping, and his bedside lamp flared to life, the gentle orange glow revealing Loki dressed impeccably in leather as always.

“You’re here,” Tony said stupidly, blinking in the sudden glare. “Why?”

The shark-like grin returned, Loki’s face looming closer as he took a seat on the edge of Tony’s bed. “Why, to admire my handiwork, of course,” the god purred, pressing a finger casually into a bruise on Tony’s arm.

Tony flinched, jolting his dislocated arm as he did so and letting out a hiss of discomfort.

“Just revenge for the pain you caused me, would you not agree?” Loki’s tone was perfectly pleasant, like he was discussing a good price for a piece of tech instead of the bodily harm Tony had sustained.

Involuntarily, Tony’s gaze flickered to Loki’s left eye, but there was no sign of the mess his blast had left in its wake. It was perfectly green and quite functional.

“You grew it back,” he mumbled, relieved and wondering at the same time. “This magic…really. Wow. How?”

Setting his incoherency aside, he reached his (relatively) uninjured arm out, ignoring the way Loki’s eyes narrowed, and brushed the pad of his thumb lightly beneath the god’s left eye. Loki jerked away like Tony’s fingers had been crawling with maggots, and he let his arm fall.

“Why are you acting so strangely, Stark?” Loki demanded, sounding suddenly suspicious, his hand coming up to rub at the spot Tony had touched.

“Meds for the pain and stuff.” Tony shrugged, returning his attention to the miraculously regrown eye. “Was sorry for that, y’know. I thought the force field would absorb most of it. Glad you don’t have to wear a patch like Fury.”

Loki remained silent, head cocking to one side almost inquisitively.

“Would be unfair to kill me when I can’t even sit up,” Tony continued plaintively, sensing his impending doom and hoping to avert it. When Loki laid a hand on his injured arm, he instinctively shrank back, trying without much luck to sink into the mattress.

“Hush.” Loki sounded distinctly amused, and Tony fell silent, eyes closing as a warm glow suffused his arm, then his thigh and his neck. It felt a little like his flesh was moving beneath his skin, but the creep factor was mostly nullified by the soothing heat engulfing his limbs.

It took a ridiculously long while for him to realise that his arm was functioning quite normally, and he sat bolt upright in excitement, only for a burst of dizziness to seize him, sending him sprawling back onto his pillows. Necessary or not, the meds were definitely still working effectively.

“You…you _healed_ me? Now I know what it feels like…t’be Madam Pomfrey. So weird. But really cool,” he said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster, then, “Why?”

Loki took a long time to reply, and when he did, he sounded a little confused himself. “The fruits of my revenge were less sweet than I had envisioned,” he said at last.

Tony hummed, accepting that cryptic little reply. “You’re pretty good at it. The healing, I mean.”

Loki met his gaze, raising a dark brow in his usual sardonic manner. “Only out of necessity. Thor has a propensity for getting injured on his foolish quests.”

Tony snorted. “I can imagine.” His eyes kept closing of their own accord, and it was only with considerable effort that he managed to force them open again. “Now what?”

He caught a glimpse of a crooked smirk before another snap of Loki’s fingers extinguished the lamp.

“Till the next time we meet on the battlefield, Stark.”

The next time Tony opened his eyes, the sun was out and his head was clear. His memories were a little less clear, but his strange lack of serious injuries (spectacular bruising notwithstanding) served as enough of a clue.

Now he just had to figure out how to explain this miraculous phenomenon to the rest of the team.

* * *

The next few battles were strange.

Loki seemed to be going through the motions more than anything else, allowing his deformed creations to run amok about the city without any real direction. All his attacks seemed half-hearted at best, quite lacking in the spite he had once exuded.

The moment anyone made a move to approach (Tony in particular, it seemed, although maybe he was just being overly-sensitive), the god would disappear with a flourish of his cape, never mind that his force field would’ve kept anyone out.

“This guy needs to get a hobby,” Clint grumbled one day, horror in his eyes as he stared at an escaping collie-sized squirrel and the pile of droppings it had left behind. “He keeps leaving _us_ to clean up _his_ messes.”

“Maybe his hobby is enlarging animals,” Natasha pointed out, and Tony had no idea if she was being sarcastic or not. He decided that she probably was.

Three encounters later – two with over-sized animals (the cats were a right _horror_ ) and one with flying towels (that one was plain bizarre) – Loki disappeared once more. For a whole month, not just from the battlefield.

Tony wasn’t concerned. Much. At least he knew that Loki hadn’t gone to ground because of a missing eye this time – or at least not a missing eye that had anything to do with _him_.

To say that it was a surprise to wake up to a very familiar dark shape beside his bed _again_ was a gross understatement.

Because he was quite clear-headed this time, Tony shot upright like he’d been stung, inching away from Loki’s motionless figure. “ _You_ again? Where have you been?” he demanded, before realising that he sounded strangely petulant, which was certainly not the attitude he had been aiming for.

The lights came on (there was no display of finger-snapping this time, Tony noted with some trepidation) to reveal Loki glaring at him in obvious annoyance. “I would wager that that is none of your business, _Stark_ ,” the god growled.

Tony raised his brows, trying as best he could to look confused rather than insolent. “Right. So you’re here because…?” he led invitingly.

Loki’s chin lifted so as to better look down his nose at Tony. “I am having difficulty finding activities with which to occupy my time, and _you_ are the cause,” he said ominously.

Tony frowned. “Yeah, we kinda figured that you weren’t really up for the messing-with-the-city-every-week thing anymore – _not_ that we’re complaining, of course.” He paused, blinking thoughtfully. “So you’re bored. Is that it? Why is it _my_ fault?”

“ _Because_ –” Loki let out a guttural noise that sounded a lot like a snarl, and before Tony could pull away, the god had snatched his arm up in a bruising grip. “Because of _this_. Because I mended your poor, _broken_ body.” He was spitting with every syllable, and Tony cringed, arm held awkwardly above his head.

“Okay, _okay_ , I get it,” Tony huffed, not daring to pull away.

Seriously, why hadn’t he started sleeping with his bracelets on? Although it was doubtful they’d work with JARVIS disabled and all.

Loki was sneering as usual; he sneered so much it was a wonder his face hadn’t stuck in a permanent scowl after centuries of the same shit. “You do, do you?”

And _now_ Tony was starting to get pissed. He liked word games as much as the next guy (or the god of mischief), but this was just plain withholding of necessary information.

“Well, I _would_ if you’d stop being cryptic and moody,” he sort-of snapped. Sort of, because he didn’t have a death wish.

Loki released his hand, flinging it away and sending Tony rolling sideways with the momentum. “I _healed_ you,” the god repeated, and Tony didn’t know if Loki sounded angrier at himself or with the world in general. “Ever since, I have had difficulty delivering lethal blows to all of you _pathetic_ , fragile creatures.”

Tony still didn’t get it. “But you’ve never delivered these…’lethal blows’. You’ve been _protecting_ us from those blows,” he said flatly. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

Loki stiffened, seeming to puff up further with anger. “I have _not_ –” he began, before appearing to give up on that line of argument. “The time was not yet right for you to perish at my hand. Do not presume to know the ways of the gods, _mortal_.”

A startled laugh spluttered its way out of Tony’s chest, and he held up a hand. “Wait, wait just a minute. So what you’re saying is that pushing us out of the way in battle so that we can fight another day doesn’t mean anything, but healing me _once_ means you can’t be our enemy anymore? What are you? Self-deluded?”

“I should never have wasted my magic on one such as _you_. One moment of misplaced pity and now I am soft, _weak_ ,” Loki snarled, mostly managing to sound like a reprimanded child who was desperately trying to gather up the shattered fragments of his excuses. “And since _you_ were the cause, I thought it only fair to…take my frustrations out on you.”

It was almost a chore to hold back his snort of amusement. It might have been a result of facing villains as a _job_ , but Tony really wasn’t getting particularly malicious vibes from the god at the moment.

“Yeah? And how were you planning to do that?” he asked, brows raised challengingly.

Loki looked comically uncertain about how to respond to Tony’s uncalled for sass. “Torture?” he said, sounding like he was hazarding a guess.

And Tony _did_ laugh at that. “Sure, pal. I’m sorry, but you’re not exactly torturer material – trust me on that.” Getting out of bed, he beckoned for Loki to follow him. “If you’re so bored, we can play Monopoly or something, but you’ll have to wake JARVIS up for that so he can be our third player.”

To his surprise, Loki actually padded noiselessly after him. The god still looked bewildered, like he wasn’t sure how the situation had gone from planning to stick a bunch of knives in Tony Stark to hear him scream, to following the same man around his own living room as he rummaged through drawers for something called Monopoly.

“Ha, got it!” Tony turned, waving the Monopoly box around and hearing the pieces rattle inside. “So, JARVIS?”

Loki hesitated. “Your servant?” he asked, as if he really needed any confirmation.

Tony rolled his eyes. “My AI, yes. Don’t worry, I’m not going to have him sound the alarm. You could kill me before anyone got here anyway.”

The frown Loki fixed him with was speculative, but a moment later, a rather alarmed-sounding JARVIS crackled to life.

“Sir?”

“It’s alright. Big bad here is a friendly, okay? Reclassify.” He waved a hand carelessly in the direction of one of the cameras. “We’re playing Monopoly. You’re gonna want the top hat again, right, JARV?”

There was a pause. “As always, Sir.”

They played till the sun rose, JARVIS trouncing both Loki and Tony with almost offensive ease.

Finally, the god rose sinuously to his feet, inclining his head politely to Tony in the most surreal manner ever. “This was a most interesting diversion, Stark,” he said seriously, although the light in his eyes was decidedly friendlier than before. “I thank you for your hospitality.”

Tony felt the careless grin tug at his lips before he could do anything to stop it. “Yeah, well, drop by the next time you’re bored. There’s a lot more than just Monopoly around here.”

It became an almost-routine, kind of like the way they had once expected a new Loki attack each time a new week rolled around.

Loki’s favourite board game turned out to be Risk, which honestly didn’t surprise Tony all that much, what with all the armies and conquering involved. The funny part was that it didn’t even touch a raw nerve for either of them.

Sometimes, their games lasted for days (well, _nights_ , technically, since Loki always left before Tony went downstairs for breakfast, or just back to bed to catch up on his sleep), and Tony was glad none of the others ever bothered coming up to his floor, or they’d see the board still set out, little black and red Roman numerals scattered not-so-haphazardly across the world map.

They probably would’ve believed him if he told them he’d been playing with JARVIS though.

Once, Tony fell asleep halfway through Scrabble (in his defence, he _had_ just returned from a four-hour long scrap with a number of stubborn wannabe-villains) and awoke on the couch with pins-and-needles in his arm. Loki had clearly _literally_ dumped him on the couch with a complete lack of concern for his blood circulation, but it probably said something that he hadn’t just left Tony to drool on the floor.

It got to the point where Tony found that he was actually _looking forward_ to Loki’s visits. Villainous past (and morally ambiguous present) aside, the god was pretty good company once the prickliness subsided somewhat.

It even got to the point that Loki started dropping by more than once a week, randomly at first, then every alternate day pretty consistently – which about coincided with the time Tony decided it was time to move on from games to movies. Loki seemed to enjoy those just as much as games, if not more.

He particularly enjoyed mindscrews like Inception, probably because he liked to pick at them for new methods to screw with people’s minds.

The months passed pretty quickly like that, until Thor said rather morosely at the breakfast table one morning, “I wonder how my brother fares. He has not shown himself for quite some time. Perhaps he is deliberately staying away to cause me undue worry.”

Tony cleared his throat, the thought _I kinda just watched The Prestige with your brother last night_ flashing guiltily through his mind.

Thus far, it hadn’t been so hard to separate his days with the Avengers from his nights with Loki. Loki never came up in conversation with the team (till now, anyway), and Loki never seemed particularly interested in the Avengers’ doings – it was a little like having a secret boyfriend that his family didn’t know about.

Or something.

Either way, guilty conscience or not, his double lives were going to have to stay very much separate. He didn’t think anyone would take kindly to his sudden declaration of, “Actually, I’ve been hanging out with Loki most nights for a while now. Maybe you guys should come join us.”

He tried to bring it up with Loki on his next visit, just casually letting the words slip out of his mouth like they were nothing. “You know, Thor was just wondering about you the other night. It was kind of awkward for me.”

The god shot him an unreadable sideways glance. “Watch the movie, Stark,” he said, after about two seconds of silence. He didn’t sound angry, just a little… _dangerous_. It wasn’t a tone that Tony had heard him use in a while.

But he let Tony’s feet remain propped up in his lap anyway, so he figured that they were still okay.

* * *

The turning point came the day the Avengers answered a call that involved an obviously manmade, dangerously growing whirlpool along the coast. Despite the rhythmic crash of waves upon sand, and the summer-bright sunlight, the clash was really less picturesque than the location would have suggested.

Tony came away feeling like he had been battered by a cement mixer – or like he had been caught in a violent maelstrom no less than fifty feet across. His right arm was all but scraped raw after he had lost a gauntlet in the struggle to get free, stuttered unbalanced across the ocean back to shore, and promptly crash landed in the unforgiving sand.

Steve, Nat and Clint had come away unscathed; Bruce hadn’t even had to disembark from the Quinjet. It wasn’t their fault though – the whirlpool had been just _slightly_ inaccessible to anyone who couldn’t fly.

They enjoyed a team meal after the somewhat dubious success anyway, and Tony had a stimulating time exchanging increasingly lurid insults with Clint, with Steve looking more and more scandalised with every turn, even as Bruce took to explaining each phrase to Thor with his usual affable (but secretly devious) demeanour.

Then Natasha just _had_ to go and ruin their fun by sending Tony _off to bed_ like he was some kid. “I mean it, Tony. Don’t try to sneak down to your workshop.” She arched a single brow, managing to make that small movement singularly terrifying. “I will know.”

But Tony was well-versed in following orders given by terrifying women, so he acquiesced with minimal whining, but not before shooting Clint the finger right before he turned the corner. It soothed his shrivelled little heart to have the last word – action, whatever.

Upstairs, he settled himself on his bed before calling up the newest set of suit schematics. Spinning the suit pointlessly with repeated flicks of his finger, he idly wondered if there was any way to make it whirlpool-proof.

He fiddled with the schematics for about an hour, fingers itching for the cool metal of his actual suit – but Natasha’s not-so-subtle threat was still quite clear in his mind. So he ended up falling asleep instead, somewhere between one sentence and the next as he debated with JARVIS the pros and cons of cutting off the assassin’s internet access for a few days.

(They concluded that the satisfaction such a show of pettiness would bring wasn’t worth a potential evisceration at the hands of a woman who knew how to make people _hurt_.)

An unknown amount of time later, but most likely a few hours, he awoke with a massive crick in his neck and fingers prodding him in the shoulder.

“Stark?” Loki said, when he seemed mostly sure that Tony was conscious.

“Never,” Tony grumbled, breaking off to yawn widely, “fall asleep sitting up. Go pick a movie; I’m just gonna brush my teeth first.”

“Hm.” The god paused, eyeing Tony’s bandaged arm with mild interest before leaving the room. A few seconds later, Tony heard the soft chatter of Loki and JARVIS speaking, presumably about movie recommendations, and he couldn’t help chuckling to himself as he trundled into the bathroom.

For a Norse god, Loki sure was easy to please.

“What are we watching tonight, Lokes?” Tony asked when he emerged from the bedroom, feeling his muscles groan in protest with every step he took. The suit might protect him from the worst harms, but it didn’t make getting tossed around willy-nilly any healthier.

Loki looked up from where he was standing in front of the microwave, a bag of popcorn twirling around within. “Source Code,” he said primly, before busying himself with snack preparation.

It was a relief to collapse onto the sofa, but Tony forced himself to remain upright. If he lay horizontal tonight, he was liable to conk out fifteen minutes into the movie, which might or might not offend Loki, considering it was his turn to pick.

“It was not an easy battle today?” Loki asked, his tone conversational as he took a seat beside Tony with the popcorn in his lap. Taking his usual cue, JARVIS promptly started the movie.

Tony shrugged, reaching for a handful of popcorn. “Kinda. Not really a battle though, not when the enemy’s Mother Nature. Manmade nature. Huh, imagine that.”

Loki let out a soft exhalation that sounded mildly amused. “Your arm is injured,” he mentioned, as if in passing, a cursory observation.

Tony grinned at that. “I’m fine, just a few abrasions is all. Stop being sweet; it’s creepy.” He leaned over, nudging at Loki teasingly with his shoulder, a movement that felt startlingly natural, probably because it wasn’t the first time he’d done it.

Loki only let out another snort. “Shut up, Stark. I care nothing about your well-being.” And damn if he didn’t make that statement sound almost _good-natured_.

Tony subsided cooperatively with just another muffled chuckle, choosing to focus on Jake Gyllenhaal’s face instead.

And lo and behold, he ended up _falling asleep again_. Maybe he had as-yet-undiagnosed narcolepsy – or maybe he was just sleep-deprived.

What made the whole thing _really_ weird was that he woke up with his head pillowed on Loki’s shoulder. Admittedly, it was a somewhat bony shoulder and thus not the most comfortable headrest, but the _point_ was that Loki had allowed the contact at all.

The point was that Loki had _stayed_.

“Wha –?” He rose to wakefulness as ungracefully as ever, pushing himself off the shoulder he had not yet realised was a shoulder, and looked around in confusion. “Oh. Lokes?”

“Finally, you awake.” Loki sounded…not exasperated – but then, he seemed to be inclined to find Tony rather entertaining in general recently.

“Sorry, did I like, fall asleep on you or something?” Tony blinked owlishly, then he repeated, “Sorry.”

Loki inclined his head. “It was of little consequence,” he said, and Tony didn’t know if he was hallucinating when his brain classified Loki’s tone of voice as _gentle_.

Then the god vanished with a simple, “Farewell, Stark,” and it didn’t matter anymore. Only coffee mattered.

Except it did matter, for _reasons_ , because Tony just couldn’t put it in any better way than that.

He didn’t sit with his feet in Loki’s lap so much anymore. Instead, the shoulder-leaning became more of a thing – in that he leaned his shoulder, not his head, against Loki’s shoulder while they ran through an eclectic selection of movies.

It didn’t mean anything, not really. It just made it easier to smack his palm down on Loki’s thigh in excitement if he saw something worth pointing out on the screen, easier to reach the snacks (because Loki was a snack-hogger, who would’ve thought?), easier to talk. Or whatever.

“It seems to me that we are unlikely to ever move on to a new activity should we persist in watching movies,” Loki commented one night, scrolling through JARVIS’ admittedly impressive (and wholly legal, thank you very much) collection of movies.

Tony grinned easily – it had been a good day. Some fun time with the team, no potential disasters needing their attention, half a day tinkering away in his workshop, and now movie time with a Norse god. It was practically like being the popular guy back in school all over again, except everyone felt a lot more genuine.

“Yeah, well, I’ll probably be dead of old age if you want to watch _every_ movie,” he said with a laugh. “If you want to move on to something else, music or whatever, just say the word.”

Loki looked back at him with a strange expression on his face, and then he shrugged, a gesture that looked almost out of place on his frame. “Merely a thought,” he said, and turned back to the screen.

“What do you do when you’re not here?” Tony asked suddenly. “I mean, I would guess, but I really can’t think of anything. Supervillain tea party? Dance-off with Doom?”

“Afraid I might be selling your secrets, Stark?” Loki didn’t turn around, but his tone was far into ‘I might sound amused but I’m really not amused at all’ territory, and Tony knew that he was treading on thin ice here.

“Just curious, that’s all. Maybe I’m just jealous that you might be spending more time with someone else,” Tony said jokingly. “I mean, you only visit during the night. What does that make me? Your dirty secret?”

Loki’s head tilted slightly, so that the edge of his profile was just visible to Tony. “I think _I_ am the dirty secret here, Stark.” The god’s lips were pressed together thinly, the skin around his temples pulled tight, and it was probably testament to how well they actually knew each other by now that Tony was able to recognise the thin veneer of hurt shadowing Loki’s expression.

“Hey, Lokes. _Hey_.” He slid off the couch and took a seat beside the god, pressing their shoulders together familiarly, knees bumping. “It’s like a safety thing, you know. Having the other Avengers around would _totally_ ruin our vibe. Plus you wouldn’t want Thor hounding you like a sad puppy, right?”

Loki’s lip curled, but the taut bow of his back seemed to soften somewhat. “Thor is no puppy,” he snorted. “He is a pest.”

“Harsh.” Tony grinned, and was pleased to receive a genuine smile in return.

Loki had a nice smile, really – the kind that brightened his whole face. It was just too bad he didn’t show it off enough.

It took Tony a moment longer than it should have to realise that he was, for some reason, still staring at Loki’s smile. And that Loki was, in turn, looking right back at him with a piercingly even gaze.

“Stark,” Loki said quietly, his lips barely parting, and while it didn’t sound like a question, somehow Tony knew that it was one anyway.

He knew what to do, had been in this situation too many times to count. Just lean forward and –

The Avengers Assemble alert blared to life around them, and Tony jumped about a foot in the air even though he had been sitting cross-legged on the floor.

“Shit. What – dammit, what _time_ is it now?” He scrambled to his feet and was halfway to the elevator when he looked back at Loki, who was still seated like he had been turned into a statue.

Then the god cocked his head, breaking the illusion. “Go, Stark,” he said, and he offered another one of those gentle, slightly heart-breaking smiles.

Tony felt something pang in his gut. “Okay. Well, uh, let JARV know if you need anything.”

Then he turned and ran.


	2. The Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to update yesterday, but I forgot. Oops.

It took a while for them to pick back up from that moment.

There was still a lot of bodily contact, the innocent kind that Tony didn’t even have to think too much about anymore. Even Loki wasn’t averse to resting a hand on Tony’s shoulder when he wanted to get his attention.

It was just that there was something crackling between them now, every time their eyes met for too long or Tony draped himself too freely over Loki or he caught Loki looking at him and pretended not to notice.

And it was only now that he was realising that that ‘something’ was nothing other than _sexual tension_.

Really, he couldn’t believe he hadn’t realised earlier. But then, it wasn’t like he’d ever given himself much of a chance to let the sexual tension build up so much, so maybe it wasn’t his fault for not recognising it.

It wasn’t like it was a helpful thing anyway – all it did was make things _awkward_.

Gone were the days where he could stick his hand into the popcorn bowl cradled between Loki’s thighs and not immediately think about sticking his hand down Loki’s pants instead.

It was hard enough to come to terms with the fact that apparently, he very much wanted to go to bed with Loki; having to worry about potentially ruining their blossoming (already-blossomed?) friendship was only stressing him out even more.

And of course, Loki just _had_ to notice, because Loki noticed everything.

“Stop fidgeting, Stark.” Loki shoved at Tony with his shoulder, sending Tony sprawling halfway across the couch.

_If you wanted to see me all laid out, you just had to say it_ , rested on the very tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it down and settled for a disgruntled huff instead. Loki shot him a rather odd look.

“What?” Tony grumbled.

The corner of Loki’s mouth twitched upwards. “I think I should be the one asking you that,” he responded primly.

Tony exhaled loudly and pointedly through his nose, resumed his upright position, and turned his gaze back onto the television.

“Perhaps,” Loki said delicately, leaning over so that his mouth was ever so close to Tony’s ear, “you are preoccupied by thoughts of bedding me?”

Tony jerked, a visceral giveaway, and turned to stare wide-eyed at Loki, whose face was about two inches away from his own.

The god leaned back, the sly seductiveness melting away into his usual amused smirk. “It is nothing that has not crossed my own mind.” His words were matter-of-fact, head tilted quizzically.

“That’s…forward of you.” Tony paused, and then his nose wrinkled in faux horror. “I just sounded like Steve. You just made me sound _morally_ _upright_.”

Loki snorted, and those scant few seconds gave Tony’s brain time to catch up with exactly what the god had been implying.

(Give him a break, it wasn’t every day he was propositioned by an _actual Norse god_.)

“So,” he tried again, “you’d be okay if I did…this?”

And he reached over to cup Loki through his pants without hesitation, just to prove that he was indeed still Tony Stark and that he hadn’t been temporarily possessed by Steve Rogers. It kind of helped that the pants weren’t leather, just some sort of nice, light linen that probably didn’t exist on Earth.

Loki’s breath whooshed out through his nose, eyes narrowing like he was determined not to let them slip shut. He didn’t make any other moves though, not even a twitch, which was pretty impressive.

Meeting no resistance, Tony stuck his hand right down the front of Loki’s pants the way he’d daydreamed about a million times. It was kind of weird that Asgardians didn’t seem to favour underwear, considering the tight leather outfits they liked so much – but maybe it was just Loki. Either way, he wasn’t complaining.

He was ridiculously pleased to find the god already half-hard, and he rubbed his thumb across the head of Loki’s cock experimentally before sliding his fist up and down the rather impressive length a few times. It was almost fascinating to feel Loki hardening further under his ministrations without seeing it with his own eyes, but it was part of the thrill, really.

The scene would have been farcical had anyone walked in on them right then, sitting side-by-side like errant schoolboys in a public cinema, with Tony’s hand surreptitiously down Loki’s pants as both of them pretended to be thoroughly engrossed by the movie that was still playing (considerately muted, because JARVIS was nothing if not a sensitive new age AI).

Tony could feel Loki breathing very slow and steady beside him, and he tried to stroke a little faster, sliding in a small twisting motion with his fingers. It was a little difficult to pick up the pace too much considering there wasn’t very much space in Loki’s stupidly tight pants, and the angle was fairly awkward for Tony’s arm, but he figured he wasn’t doing a half-bad job.

Which wasn’t enough for a god, apparently, because Loki let out a sudden harsh exhalation and lifted his hips ever so slightly until he could tug his pants down over his hips. Tony paused momentarily as Loki’s cock sprung free, before he resumed his rhythmic stroking, sneaking a peek along the way.

_Pretty_ , was his first thought, which was a little weird, even for him. It really was, though – nice and flushed, lovely length, a dusky red head that Tony desperately wanted to put his mouth on.

Instead, he just concentrated on his hand movements, mouth quirking at every spasmodic, full-body twitch Loki wasn’t quite able to hide. His own cock was straining against the fabric of his sweatpants, but he could wait, at least until he’d coaxed something other than laboured pants from Loki’s parted lips.

Delayed gratification and all that.

Feeling particularly villainous, he slowed his strokes, lightened his touch until his hand was just skimming Loki’s length. He didn’t even have to wait; the result was instantaneous.

“ _Stark_.” Loki said his name like a plea, head thrown back and a filthy-sounding whine emitting from his throat even as his hips thrust up in an act of futility.

“What?” Tony said innocently, his hand continuing its light teasing.

Loki’s eyes were slits when he tilted his head to glare at Tony, but his voice was a breathy groan. “ _Faster_.”

Never let it be said that Tony Stark couldn’t follow instructions.

He pumped Loki _hard_ , not holding back, exactly the way he did when he was trying to get himself off, and the god responded in kind. Loki’s entire body was rigid, the muscles of his thighs taut with strain, his moans sounding just this side of pain.

“C’mon,” Tony murmured, his own voice tense, and Loki seemed to let go at that, freezing in place as he shot thick ropes of semen all over his own shirt. A few droplets splattered onto Tony’s hand, and he felt a shiver of sudden lust heat his body.

He clambered onto Loki’s lap, his sudden motion seeming to startle the god, although his lips parted easily enough when Tony all but smashed their mouths together. He could feel his own erection prodding against Loki’s stomach through the fabric of his sweats, and before he could stop himself he was rubbing himself up against Loki’s body like some sort of crazed cat, panting very unsexily against the god’s mouth.

He could feel Loki tugging at his pants, one hand steadying his hips and the other fisting his newly-freed length.

Tony broke away to mumble a muffled sort of “ _Yes_ ,” his head bowed and back rigid as Loki began to stroke him in earnest. His hand slid downwards, sandwiched between the sofa and Loki’s back, his hips making jerky little movements in time with the god’s hand.

He came hard in an embarrassingly short time, adding to the mess already covering Loki’s front before sliding down to lean his cheek against the god’s collarbone. His mind was suddenly clear, free of the temporary lust-filled insanity that had seized him for a few minutes.

“That was weird,” he said after a moment, still slumped bodily against Loki, who was merely holding him still with an arm looped around his waist.

“Are you not always strange, Stark?” Loki murmured, and there was an odd note in his voice that Tony later identified as _contentment_.

Tony pulled back to give Loki’s shoulder a shove. “Shut up,” he said with laugh, tumbling off the god’s lap. He kicked his sweat pants the rest of the way off before laying his head against the side of the couch, feet swinging onto Loki’s bare thighs. One of the god’s hands came to rest on his ankles, and he closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation.

It was a nice moment, comfortable and peaceful. He didn’t want it to end.

“This isn’t like, an obligation or anything,” he said suddenly, feeling compelled to lay things out properly between them, before any misunderstandings could arise. “It can just be a one-time thing, or whatever, or whenever you want. Like if you only want to play Risk then we’ll just play Risk, y’know? I don’t want to mess up this whatever… _thing_ , this friendship.”

Loki chuckled, and he sounded slightly admonishing when he said, “You think too much, Stark. Especially if you think that I would feel obligated to lay with you.”

Later, seeing the tell-tale stains on the back of the couch, left behind by his come-splattered hand, he told JARVIS to call for a cleaning service (couch covers weren’t going to cut it, not for _leather_ ), and counted it as a small price to pay.

* * *

Unfortunately, their second time didn’t go half as well as the first, and perhaps even that was an understatement.

They spent the next fortnight doing very unsexual activities, until one night Tony decided that he who never asked would never receive an answer, and Tony Stark wasn’t about to be that loser who never asked.

“Hey.” He pressed up against Loki, even more so than he’d already been doing, forcing the god to spare him a distracted glance. “Do you want to…?” He laid a hand on Loki’s thigh and squeezed, suddenly feeling like an assassin doing a seduction play – being sneaky was _fun_.

(Although Natasha and Clint would laugh their asses off at the idea of Tony thinking of himself as being _sneaky_.)

“Later,” Loki murmured, patting at Tony’s hand half-heartedly. “After the movie.” But the slight twitch of his cheek showed that he wasn’t quite as nonchalant as he appeared to be.

Tony grinned, satisfied, and popped a potato chip into his mouth.

They made it to the bedroom this time, leaving a breadcrumb trail of clothes behind them.

“There’s this thing I wanted to do the last time,” Tony whispered, pushing Loki down onto the bed and locking eyes with the god.

Loki only raised a brow in response, looking much too calm for someone who’d tried to push Tony up against the wall less than half a minute ago.

“You suck,” Tony grumbled, crawling onto the bed before pausing like the thought had just struck him. “Actually, I guess I do too. _Am_ going to.”

He gave his most winning smirk before taking hold of Loki’s erect cock and diving down with his mouth. He settled about halfway, grinning round the cock in his mouth at the sound of Loki’s sudden sharp intake of breath, then took a breath and slowly began to inch his way down until he felt the head bump lightly against the back of his throat.

He closed his eyes, fighting his gag reflex – it had been a while since he’d done this, after all – aware of how carefully still Loki was being.

“Mm,” he hummed appreciatively, once he was sure he would be able to, and he felt the thrum deep in his throat. Something that sounded like a muffled curse forced its way out of Loki’s mouth, and his hips twitched reflexively, making Tony pull back.

Pursing his lips around the head, he released it with a _pop_ , then looked up at Loki with the most lascivious expression he could manage. “Like that?” he teased, and he had the distinct pleasure of getting an actual laugh out of the god instead of just a snort.

“Very much,” Loki replied dryly, although probably not as sarcastically as he would’ve liked. His voice was low and throaty with need, pupils blown and fixed on Tony’s face.

“Good answer.” Tony took the god in his mouth again, licking his way up and down Loki’s shaft with unmistakable enjoyment. There was the very distinct, crisp-ice scent of Loki he’d started to notice a while back, except rather more concentrated, and the soft groans the god had finally stopped repressing served as the most effective encouragement.

He allowed his creativity free reign as he slid his mouth up and down, lips wrapped around Loki’s cock as he licked and sucked at random, slurping as indecently as he could. The god seemed to particularly like the satisfied little hum that Tony made each time he swallowed the god to the root, and he pumped hard with his hand whenever he came up for air.

All of a sudden, Loki gave a sudden hard tug on Tony’s hair, seeming to want to say something that came out as a jumble of possibly not-English gibberish instead. Tony patted the god’s hip soothingly, and pulled back slightly as Loki started to thrust unevenly into his mouth, his gasps loud and tortured as Tony’s teeth scraped against his hot flesh.

“Mm,” Tony said again, meaning _Don’t hold back_ , and whether or not he was understood, he felt hot pulses of liquid hitting the back of his throat a moment later. He swallowed, took a quick breath through his nose, and swallowed again.

The lust hit him like a ten-ton truck.

He paused in the midst of clambering up to Loki’s mouth, a low whine of pain escaping at how suddenly and horribly engorged his cock felt. He barely even had time to think, _What the hell?_ before he was reaching down, frantic, to stroke himself hard and fast, eyes closing as he moaned without even meaning to.

“Stark?” In the back of his mind, he was vaguely aware of Loki pulling him up the rest of the way, so that he was collapsed fully on the god, but it was hard to think with the haze of desire clouding his brain. He gave another tug and promptly orgasmed over Loki’s stomach with a jerk, black spots dancing across his vision as he heard the god make a small noise of surprise.

He was still hard, painfully so, the raging need to come taking over all his senses, and he desperately began to thrust into his own fist again. He buried his nose against Loki’s skin, distantly aware of the god trying to sit up, saying his name with something that sounded a lot like worry in his voice.

“Lokes?” he moaned, writhing, _burning_ with desire.

“Stark, are you – _Stark._ Can you hear me?” Something shook him hard by the shoulders, and he followed the motion limply like a ragdoll, unable to focus on anything more than the sudden _need_ that was consuming him.

Somehow, he found Loki’s face even through his hazy vision. Leaning forward, he nipped eagerly at the god’s neck and chin, then paused to come again, shuddering and whimpering, before beginning to rock his hips against Loki’s torso. Something about this position was oddly familiar, but the memory escaped him for the time being.

“ _Stark_. There’s something – you are not in your right mind,” Loki hissed, and the discomfort, the _fear_ in the god’s voice actually made Tony pause.

“I –” he tried, blinking rapidly, his hips still moving of their own accord. “I – could you touch me? Please?” His voice sounded very small to his own ears.

Loki wrenched him upright again, peering at him, lips thin with anxiety. Tony didn’t know what he looked like at the moment (flushed crimson, probably – he was feeling extremely hot at the moment, temperature-wise), but it was enough to make Loki wrap his fingers tentatively around Tony.

“Please?” he repeated, pushing up against Loki’s fist. He was leaking all over Loki’s hand, literally _dripping_ copiously, and he would’ve been amazed if he’d had the presence of mind to register the occurrence.

Loki sighed, pushing Tony down onto the bed and shifting to sit beside him. His hand was refreshingly cool, his grip pleasantly forceful as he took up the quick pace Tony had set for himself before. Tony just lay back and breathed hard, still feeling the hot curl of animal desire low in his belly.

A few minutes passed before Loki spoke again, but it wasn’t to Tony. “Do you know what is wrong with Stark, JARVIS?” he asked politely, like he wasn’t currently covered with drying semen or giving an out-of-control Tony a handjob.

“I do not, Mr. Loki.” JARVIS sounded almost embarrassed when he continued, “I can, however, extrapolate based on recordings of your sexual encounters with Sir.”

“Why…” Tony started, then closed his eyes, trying to regulate his breathing. He felt Loki rub at his arm comfortingly with his free hand, but the action only made him twitch and whine with a terrible mix of agony and pleasure. He could feel the hair on his arms prickling with every touch, the over-stimulation making him clench needily.

“Don’t,” he gasped, eyes snapping open to fix on Loki’s startled expression, and something about his expression or his voice made Loki withdraw his hand slowly.

And then Tony convulsed as he came again, and the god looked back up at the ceiling in the way he often did when speaking to JARVIS.

“Please do, JARVIS. Thank you.”

“Calculating,” JARVIS said matter-of-factly, before continuing with hardly a second’s pause, “There is a 94.43% chance that Sir’s condition is a result of direct contact with your ejaculate, Mr. Loki. There is reason to suggest that quantity positively correlates with strength of reaction. If you recall, Sir came into contact with only a minute amount of ejaculate during your first sexual encounter, as compared to today’s events.”

There was a pause, and then he distinctly heard definite non-English cursing from Loki this time.

Tony struggled into a sitting position, wanting a kiss, wanting to plaster himself all over Loki’s extremely fine body. The god was, apparently, not only magical but also a mind-reader, because he lifted Tony onto his lap with another sigh and allowed a few minutes of decidedly enthusiastic exploration of his mouth.

When Loki broke the kiss, the first thing he said, in a disappointingly unromantic manner, was, “How are you feeling, Stark?”

Tony licked sloppily at the god’s unfairly attractive jawline, giving the question as serious consideration as he could.

“Like I want to be buried inside you really, really deep,” he concluded, and the abrupt hitch in Loki’s breathing only excited him more. “Today? Now?”

Loki snorted in the way that suggested he was hiding a chuckle. “Not today, I think,” he murmured, and dipped his head for another kiss. Tony’s hands wandered all over the god’s slightly sticky torso, and he let out a happy sigh.

He came a lot that night, to the point that his cock was so sore that every stroke brought him to gasping tears – at least until Loki whipped out his warm healing magic again.

Then they continued until the whole experience was nothing more than a blur for Tony, and he didn’t even remember his lust subsiding because he was so exhausted that he fell asleep halfway through kissing Loki.

* * *

He woke up feeling like a wrung-out washcloth. Also like he’d fought a week-long battle in the suit. A week-long _losing_ battle.

“JARV?” he mumbled.

And then he rolled over to find himself face-to-face with Loki. In his bed. Naked, as far as he could tell.

“What –” he started, just as Loki’s lids began to flutter. “Oh. _Oh_. Shit.”

Loki opened his eyes, seeming unsurprised to see Tony, and just like that, everything came rushing back.

Well, mostly everything. Some of his memories were only sensations – very vivid sensations of lips and sweat and skin – and a lot of the words that had spilled out of his mouth were a bit of a blur. Or maybe he was just repressing his own memories out of sheer humiliation.

Tony rolled back onto his back, flopped an arm over his eyes, and resisted the urge to groan. He didn’t do this embarrassment thing very often.

He felt the bed dip slightly beside him as Loki sat up, which immediately brought to mind memories of sitting in Loki’s lap, sucking at the god’s neck while being jerked off.

“Oh god,” he moaned in despair, and he heard a soft snort from Loki.

“Are you quite well, Stark?”

Slowly, he lowered his arm to see Loki watching him with a faint smile on his face, head cocked in his usual curious manner.

“I’m amazed you didn’t run off the moment I fell asleep,” he confessed.

Loki’s smirk widened ominously. “I was wearied after seeing to your needs,” the god said, sounding one step away from bursting into laughter when Tony rolled his eyes and gave another groan.

“This is _your_ fault,” he grumbed. “Don’t think I didn’t hear JARVIS’ analysis. I might’ve been horny as hell, but my brain was still functioning.”

Loki sobered at that reminder, although he did manage a snappy retort all the same. “Was it? I had difficulty verifying that last night.”

Rolling out of bed, Tony reached over to pat Loki’s bare thigh comfortingly (he _liked_ Loki’s thighs, so what?). “It’s okay. I guess this just means swallowing is out of the question from now on.” The thought made his smile droop slightly in disappointment.

The god stiffened at that, turning to face Tony more fully. “You still…” He trailed off, his expression oddly vulnerable with those slightly raised brows and parted lips. Seeing the blankets pooled around him like that, Tony actually had to stop himself from ruffling Loki’s hair. Something told him that that wouldn’t be received well at all.

“Still what?” Tony asked, moving over to his wardrobe and throwing on the first shirt he could find. “Still want to have sex with you? Duh. That shouldn’t even be a question. The question is, do _you_ still want to risk _me_ going all sex maniac on you. I mean, we _could_ just use a condom, but if there’s not going to be any danger of diseases, then I’d really rather not, but –”

He jumped when Loki came up (or appeared, who knew) behind him all of a sudden, resting his mouth against Tony’s ear. “You were nothing I couldn’t handle, Stark,” the god breathed silkily, and Tony felt a tremor of warmth that shot straight to his groin.

“Okay, _okay_.” Turning, he determinedly pushed Loki away and headed for the bathroom, calling over his shoulder, “That’s enough. No turning me on right now. I have zero energy to stick my dick anywhere at the moment.”

Loki laughed at that, following Tony over and stopping in the doorway. “In any case, it is about time for me to leave,” he said, with a hint of a smile still lingering in his voice even as a casual Asgardian-style outfit shimmered into being on his body.

Tony’s face fell. “Can’t you stay for breakfast?” He quickly pulled out his signature roguish grin. “I seriously want to talk more about this magic aphrodisiac come that you apparently have.”

Loki hesitated, his eyes darting to Tony’s face and then away. “Do you not usually break your fast with your…” He paused, as if searching for the right words. “– your comrades?”

Tony shrugged. “JARVIS can let them know I’m working on something at the moment, can’t you, JARV?”

“Certainly, Sir.”

“Very well then.” The barely-visible smile returned to Loki’s face, and Tony couldn’t help leaning up for a quick kiss on the way to the kitchen, just because.

The whole thing felt disgustingly domestic, even if they did both end up eating cereal with milk because Tony was a disaster where cooking was concerned.

“So I’m guessing you didn’t know about this, um, side-effect,” Tony guessed, between a mouthful of Cheerios.

Loki shrugged. “I have never witnessed this effect in any of my previous lovers,” he said somewhat morosely.

“Hm.” Tony frowned. “Were any of them humans?”

The god paused, fixing his gaze on Tony. “No, I have never lain with a Midgardian before you.”

It was quite inevitable that Tony puffed up at that, wearing his hugest shit-eating grin. “Good taste, Lokes. Now everyone else will pale in comparison, so you’re stuck with me,” he sing-songed.

Loki snorted into his cereal, but Tony didn’t think it sounded _completely_ disbelieving.

“Anyway,” he continued, not bothering to conceal his smug expression, “I guess there’s just something in there that’s particularly potent to us poor frail Earthlings.” He gestured quite cheerfully at Loki’s crotch as he spoke.

Loki’s brows were furrowed, and he looked much more concerned about the situation than Tony was. “I shall be careful when releasing my seed,” he promised solemnly.

Tony promptly snorted milk right out of his nose, and stumbled coughing to the sink.

“Releasing,” he cackled, “your _seed_. I swear, I’ll never get over how Shakespearean you guys are. Not sure the Bard ever talked about seed in that way though.”

“It is hardly my fault that Midgardian speech is so uncouth,” Loki sniffed, his expression haughty.

Tony shook his head, still sniggering. “Sure, Lokes, whatever you say.” Then he held up his hand, eyes wide. “Wait, listen – so too much come is a problem, but just a _little bit_. Like that night on the couch. We could go at it for _hours_!”

“You _did_ ‘go at it’ for hours last night,” Loki pointed out dryly. “I am not sure that I would like a repeat experience.”

Tony floundered for a moment. “Well. Go at it for a few rounds at least,” he corrected. “Imagine if we bottled and sold it. Like Viagra, except _au naturel_ and infallible.”

Loki looked appalled. “You want to sell my…my –” He broke off with an expression of utmost disgust on his face that sent Tony off into a round of snickers once more.

“I’m just _kidding_ , Lokes. I would never monetise you – _or_ your seed. There’d be some major ethical issues involved anyway, so nah, I’m keeping you _all_ to myself.” He slung an arm over the god’s shoulder, nuzzling his way under Loki’s ear. “Mm, you smell better when I’m in my right mind.”

He felt like the line between ‘friends with benefits’ and ‘potential relationship with feelings involved’ had suddenly blurred, and he wasn’t sure what to think of it. Loki actually sticking around to see Tony through a bout of aggressive sex insanity without straight up murdering him might have had something to do with it.

He paused for about half a second to think about that, and then gave Loki’s skin an experimental lick. “Taste better too,” he declared approvingly, pulling back to find Loki with half-lidded eyes, a deep hum sounding somewhere in his chest that felt a lot like a purr when Tony pressed his palm against those enviable pecs.

Loki leaned forward, kissing his way lightly into Tony’s mouth, soft and lingering before he drew away.

Tony’s eyes opened, recognising the signs. “You’re leaving now?” he sighed, disappointed but not surprised. “Don’t forget that we need to have _lots_ of sex to figure out this overly-effective aphrodisiac issue.”

Loki inclined his head, one corner of his mouth pulling up in amusement. “ _Yes_ , Stark,” he said, long-suffering as always. “Farewell.”

Tony stared at the empty space the god had left behind, before sighing and calling for JARVIS to inform him of each Avenger’s current whereabouts. He had a team to annoy, a CEO whose meetings he loved to interrupt, and of course a suit to fiddle with.

Life was very good indeed.

* * *

It only took them a week of movies instead of two to get back into bed together this time. Tony was fairly hopeful that they’d eventually be able to cut that interval down even further.

Loki still seemed hesitant, which made sense, since _he_ was the one who was going to have to handle a sex-crazed Tony if anything went wrong again. Tony, on the other hand, was raring to go.

“Just tell me if you’re close and I’ll jump out of the way or something,” Tony assured him seriously. “I’m pretty flexible.”

“ _Are_ you,” Loki said, with a very familiar tone of scepticism.

Tony’s brows raised. “Are you doubting me?” he demanded with a pout.

The god rolled his eyes. “I would never.”

“You know, you’re really starting to sound like JARVIS,” Tony mentioned, mouth twisting in mock horror. “I don’t know if that’s creepy or just…well, it’s creepy.”

“Shut up, Stark.” Gripping on to Tony’s hips, Loki pulled him closer so they were pressed flush against each other. Tony shivered; the sensation of their cocks rubbing against each other might just be the most arousing thing he’d ever felt in his life.

Reaching down to stroke them both with one hand, Tony whispered, “So how are we doing this? Should I get you off now, or do you want to come when I’m inside you?”

Loki grunted at his words, and Tony could practically hear the god’s teeth grinding. “Later,” he forced out, shifting so that he was lying back, legs spread invitingly.

“I am _this_ close to going down on you again,” Tony confessed, before promptly giving in and leaning down to give the head of Loki’s cock a quick swirl with his tongue. “Yum.”

Loki watched him with dark eyes as he squirted lube onto his hands, reaching down to press lightly against the god’s entrance, tracing around it with a finger. Loki quivered slightly for a moment, looking tense and uncertain, and then he relaxed, letting his head fall back against the bed.

Tony kept an eye on the god’s face as he pressed a finger slowly in, sensing the tautness thrumming beneath Loki’s skin despite the looseness of his limbs. He gripped the underside of Loki’s thigh with his free hand, bracing himself, but also stroking lightly with his thumb in an effort to reassure.

It took a while (and a bit more lube) before Tony felt sure enough to insert another finger. He heard Loki let out a shaky sigh, his body already more pliant than before as Tony began to press in and out steadily. All the same, it was a little strange, like Loki hadn’t ever bottomed before – which surely couldn’t be true. He’d probably had sex with a billion more people (and non-people) than even Tony.

“You…” Tony paused. “Have you done this before? I mean, being on the receiving end?”

Loki took a few seconds to respond, and when he did, he sounded almost affectionate – affectionate _and_ exasperated. “ _Yes_ , Stark,” he said, like it should’ve been obvious, “but it has been a number of years.”

“A couple of years. Right.” Tony figured a number of years to a god probably meant anywhere from a decade to a century, so it was probably a pretty damn long time. “Uh, think you need another finger?”

Again, Loki paused, like he was gauging his level of readiness. And then he shook his head, but Tony could feel the subtle tightening in his thigh anyway, like the god was bracing himself.

“Hey.” He leaned over, close enough that he could feel the steady puffs of Loki’s exhalations. “It’s okay. I’m not _that_ huge – not saying that I’m _small_. I just mean – I mean, I’m probably not Asgardian size, if all Asgardians are like Thor, but – okay, wait, let’s start again. I seriously shouldn’t have mentioned Thor or Thor’s dick, should I? Shit, this is so awkward.”

But Loki was shaking beneath him in silent laughter, which set Tony off as well, and it took another few minutes before he was able to stop snickering long enough to position himself properly against Loki’s entrance again.

“Just…whatever. Just relax, okay? _Please_ don’t be thinking about you-know who.”

Loki chuckled again, trembling in an effort to hold in his amusement. “Shut _up_ , Stark.”

Tony pushed in slowly, wiggling a little and trying to hold back as Loki’s tight warmth began to engulf him. Strangely, the further in he got, the more Loki seemed to relax, probably in a ‘that’s not so bad after all’ sort of way.

He let out a throaty growl as he bottomed out, arms trembling with the effort of holding still, balls pressing up against Loki’s ass. “Feels amazing. You okay?”

Loki nodded, pupils wide and dilated as he stared up at Tony. “Move,” he ordered, something unnaturally harsh in his tone, and Tony was perfectly happy to comply.

He thrust slowly at first, experimenting with angles until he found the one that made Loki keen and his back arch. And then he mostly let himself go, keeping up a mindless pace until he felt his orgasm building, helped along by every gasping breath that Loki let out. The god lay beneath him, eyes wide and glazed, shifting and moaning with every thrust, and Tony reached between them to fist Loki’s cock in his hand.

Loki let out a stuttering whine at the contact, and his eyes fell shut as Tony pumped his cock erratically, trying and failing to match his hand motions with the speed of his thrusts.

“Lokes. _Loki_ ,” Tony groaned, and he buried himself deep inside the god as his climax washed over him, leaving him suddenly limp and shaking.

Loki seemed to jerk at that, and then his hand came up to grip the head of his own cock, directing the splatter of semen onto his own skin. A single drop landed on Tony’s finger anyway; the mild jolt of desire it elicited was obvious enough now that he knew what to expect, and it faded as soon as he wiped it off on a bedsheet.

Sliding out of Loki, he wiped the god’s chest clean with the same bedsheet, then immediately flopped down onto the chest that he liked so much, letting out a contented sigh.

“Not bad, huh?” he mumbled, and he felt the rumble of Loki’s chuckle against him, before an arm came up to drape snugly across his back. “If you wanna be the one putting your dick in next time, I’m cool with that, by the way.”

Loki stilled at that, before he replied carefully, “If you do not mind.”

Tony cracked an eye open, a faint frown forming on his face. “Sure I don’t mind. I don’t mind much when it comes to sex. I only mind things that don’t make you happy – well, unless you have kinks that involve slicing me with knives or other painful things that I’m totally not down with.”

Loki stared at him for a moment, as if processing his words. “Very well. We can…discuss it the next time.” Then he paused, and said with mild bemusement, “I do not hold with torturing my lovers.”

Tony smirked. “Well, I guess it’s not torture to people who like that sort of thing _._ ”

Loki snorted at that but made no response, only rolling sideways so that they were curled into each other, Tony’s head tucked under the god’s chin.

He had almost drifted off to sleep when Loki’s voice sounded suddenly in the dark. “You should consider revealing the truth to your comrades.”

“Er, what?” Tony shifted sleepily, wondering at the unexpected topic and internally shying away from the fuss he just _knew_ everyone was going to kick up the moment they found out the bare bones of the truth.

“Some secrets, left to fester too long, can be ruinous,” Loki said quietly, something strange and distant in his tone.

Tony was silent for a moment, sensing the sudden gravity in the god’s manner. “Is this important to you?” he said at last.

Another wordless moment stretched, as Loki traced his fingers along the back of Tony’s hand lightly. “I would not want what we have now to sour should your comrades discover certain unpalatable truths for themselves.”

Tony sighed. “I wish _you_ could do it. Just go down there right now and tell them that you’re sleeping with me, and that you won’t blame them for being jealous.”

 “So you will do it?” Loki pressed insistently, not even placating him with a chuckle.

Tony grumbled for a moment more, and not just for the fun of it – he _really_ wasn’t looking forward to the fall-out – but he relented in the end. Faced with an uncharacteristically solemn god, how could he not?

“Yeah, fine, _sure_ ,” he said, exasperated. “Just…not today. Maybe also not tomorrow. Maybe next year?”

“ _Stark_.”

“Okay, when you start calling me Tony, I’ll tell them,” he declared.

He could almost _feel_ Loki smirking at him in the dark, and a moment later, the god purred, low and seductive, “Will you, _Tony_?”

“You suck,” he complained half-heartedly, flopping over so he was facing the ceiling.

Loki chuckled, one hand trailing slowly down Tony’s chest. “Do I?”

Tony groaned. “Shut _up_ , Lokes.” It was official – Loki had _definitely_ been spending too much time around him.

“I do think that that is my line, Stark.” The god’s hand resumed its innocent position over Tony’s torso, stroking down his back gently, soothingly.

Tony huffed, but curled in closer anyway.

“I like you,” he said after a moment. “I like having you around. I don’t want to mess that up once everyone finds out.”

Loki pressed his nose to Tony’s hair. “All will be well,” he murmured, and somehow, impossibly, Tony found himself trusting that completely baseless statement.

“Okay,” he whispered.

He lay awake even after Loki’s breathing had evened out, quite mystified as to what the hell he had just gotten himself into, until the god’s quiet snuffles finally lulled him to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I hope this chapter didn't feel too disjointed from the first. Literally all I wanted to write was 'what if Loki's semen had aphrodisiac-like effects,' but my brain wanted to know how they shacked up and somehow I ended up with 6,000 words of backstory. I don't even know where it came from.
> 
> I have one or two more ideas that I want to write for this verse, but honestly, considering the whole premise, they're likely to be porny rather than plotty, heh. Sorry about that.


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